Page 79 of The Bastard's Lily
"You like this?" I growl, thrusting up to meet her. "Like fucking me where anyone could walk by? Getting that sweet pussy filled right here on holy ground?"
Her head falls back, throat exposed to the night sky. "Yes," she gasps, grinding down harder.
"Look at you," I rasp, sliding my thumb between her legs where we're joined, feeling how wet she is around me. "Taking my cock like you were made for it. Made just for me."
She clenches around me at my words, her movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. The moonlight catches on the tears in her eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming pleasure, the intensity of finally having this again after so long.
"Mine," I growl, the word tearing from somewhere primal inside me. My hands grip her hips harder, leaving marks that'll bloom purple by morning. "Say it, Calla. Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she gasps, her body trembling above me. "Always you, Rook."
The sound of my name on her lips sends fire through my veins. I sit up suddenly, wrapping my arm around her waist to hold her against me as I thrust up into her. Her breasts press against my chest, her arms twining around my neck.
"That ring on your finger means you're mine now," I growl against her ear, biting the sensitive lobe. "My old lady. My wife. Every fucking thing to me.”
"I'm going to make you come right here on consecrated ground," I growl, voice barely recognizable as my own. "Going to make you scream so loud they'll think the Second Coming just happened."
Her pupils blow wide, almost swallowing the color of her irises. She rolls her hips faster, taking me deeper with each thrust. My hands grip her ass, guiding her movements as she rides.
"Fuck," she gasps, her inner walls clenching around me. "Keep talking."
I slide one hand between us, finding her slick heat where we're joined. My thumb circles her clit with steady pressure as I thrust up harder.
"You're so fucking wet," I growl. "Dripping for me. Always been this way, haven't you? My dirty girl gettin' off on the risk."
Her movements become erratic, desperate. I can feel her thighs trembling against mine, see the flush spreading across her chest. She's close. My hand wraps around her throat, cutting off herwords. Her eyes widen, dark and hungry in the moonlight. I can feel her pulse hammering against my palm, the delicate column of her neck so fragile beneath my grip.
"You like that?" I growl, tightening my fingers just enough to make her gasp. "Like feeling me control you while I'm buried inside you?"
She nods frantically, unable to speak, her hips still moving in desperate circles. I loosen my grip just enough to let her draw a ragged breath.
"Say it," I demand, voice rough as gravel. "Tell me how much you like my hand around your throat while I fuck you."
"I love it," she gasps, the words barely audible. "Makes everything… more intense. Please don't stop."
I squeeze again, careful, controlled, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. But there's nothing but raw pleasure in her eyes as they glaze over, her movements becoming more erratic.
"That's it," I murmur, thrusting up harder as my grip tightens. "Take what you need. Show me how good it feels."
Her entire body suddenly goes rigid, her inner walls clenching around me with such force it nearly pushes me over the edge. She comes with a strangled cry, her head thrown back, moonlight catching the elegant arch of her throat beneath my fingers. Her thighs quiver against mine, her hands diggingcrescents into my shoulders as wave after wave crashes through her.
I loosen my grip on her throat, letting her gulp air as she trembles and pulses around me. She collapses forward, slumping against my chest, her forehead pressed to my shoulder as aftershocks continue to ripple through her body. I can feel her heart hammering against mine, her breath coming in ragged gasps against my neck.
I'm still rock hard inside her, throbbing with need, but I don't move. Just hold her while she comes back to herself, one hand stroking the damp curve of her spine. She feels so fucking perfect in my arms, like every missing piece of me finally slotting back into place.
"Jesus Christ," she finally mumbles against my skin, voice hoarse and wrecked.
After a moment, she shifts against me, then freezes. I watch her eyes widen slightly as she realizes I'm still hard inside her. Her gaze locks with mine, something primal and hungry flashing across her features.
"You didn't…" she whispers, rolling her hips experimentally against me.
I hiss through my teeth at the sensation, my hands automatically tightening on her waist. "Not yet."
A slow, wicked smile spreads across her face. She presses her palms against my chest, pushing herself up slightly. The movement causes me to slide deeper, and we both groan.
"Well, that's not fair at all," she murmurs, her voice still raspy from my hand on her throat. "I can't have my husband unsatisfied on church grounds. Seems… sacrilegious."
"Calla," I warn, but there's no heat behind it. Just desperation.
